Tuesday, May 26, 2015

As For Man...

 (Song in Ojibway language with lyrics. Scroll down for words in English.)


“We are not here to celebrate life or death, said the minister at Vera’s funeral yesterday, but we are here to consider the seriousness of both.”

Here, where we love to laugh and learn
And contemplate time’s no return
Here, where the morning tide refills
What twilight drains to misted hills
Here, in the pulsing Must of Now
Before we lay our gauntlets down
We tread a sacred thoroughfare
That leads, for one and all to There

Here, in this hold-let-go affair
Of growing old beneath death’s stare
Here, where the flowers bloom then bleed
Upon the tomb that seals our need
Here, all who come to pass must climb
Beyond this little grass of time
For we are bound with common care
Toward that all-immortal There

There, where a roll-call will be read
There, where Truth crowns both hope and dread
There, where the place that we call Here
Will in a twinkle disappear
Thus, we are wise to contemplate
The awesome Prize that fools debate
And we would do well to prepare
Here, for forever’s over There

 
© Janet Martin



 As for man, his days are like grass; As a flower of the field, so he flourishes. When the wind has passed over it, it is no more, And its place acknowledges it no longer.…Ps. 103:15-16

Vera asked that we sing this song at the funeral service ...

O think of the home over there,
By the side of the river of light,
Where the saints, all immortal and fair,
Are robed in their garments of light.
Over there, over there,
O think of the home over there,
Over there, over there,
O think of the home over there.


O think of the friends over there,
Who before us the journey have trod,
Of the songs that they breathe on the air,
In their home in the palace of God.
Over there, over there,
O think of the friends over there,
Over there, over there,
O think of the friends over there.


My Savior is now over there,
There my kindred and friends are at rest,
Then away from my sorrow and care,
Let me fly to the land of the blest.
Over there, over there,
My Savior is now over there,
Over there, over there,
My Savior is now over there.


I’ll soon be at home over there,
For the end of my journey I see;
Many dear to my heart, over there,
Are watching and waiting for me.
Over there, over there,
I’ll soon be at home over there,
Over there, over there,
I’ll soon be at home over there.


Words: De­Witt C. Hunt­ing­ton, cir­ca 1873.
Music: Tul­li­us C. O’Kane 


Jesus is Coming
"I, Jesus, have sent My angel to testify to you these things for the churches. I am the root and the descendant of David, the bright morning star." The Spirit and the bride say, "Come." And let the one who hears say, "Come." And let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who wishes take the water of life without cost. Rev.22:16-17

2 comments:

  1. Well said, as always, Janet. A friend whose mother died last week shared with me a striking comment made excitedly by her pastor: "Just think - it's her FIRST day!" Thinking about that adds another layer of thought to the truth that we do not grieve as those without hope. May hope and anticipation surround and comfort as you miss Vera.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thank-you Cyndy, I LOVE that thought.
    You also touch on a something I'm contemplating this morning, how without Christ true hope and joy are impossible, no matter how hard we pretend!

    thank-you so much for your comforting words.

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Thank you always for your visit and your thoughts.